


Jackie and Wilson

by PrettyMessedUpSituation (MarcelinesNightosphere)



Series: From Eden [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Break Up, Drinking to Cope, F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 17:11:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3577398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcelinesNightosphere/pseuds/PrettyMessedUpSituation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is in love like he'd never expected, but opening up with the truth about his work will ruin everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jackie and Wilson

**Author's Note:**

> Based on "Jackie and Wilson" by Hozier.

“My god, we’d have the most beautiful children,” she said, running her fingers through Dean’s hair. She giggled. Cassie leaned down and kissed his lips fully with all the love she had.

“If they looked like you, maybe,” he said, blushing. He brushed his hands over her cheeks, then let them fall down her thighs that rested on either side of him.

He loved her. It had completely surprised him. He was more scared of this than anything he’d ever encountered, and that was saying something. Everything about his life seemed to fade away when they were together like this. He didn’t have Sam to rush back to, only his dad, and if he had to choose between being there with Cassie or getting back to his dad, he’d pick Cassie every time. He thought things would have changed, that his circumstances somehow would have gotten better, but it was the same routine, different scene _every_ damn day. Until her.

A hunt in Ohio brought him into a college near Athens. Just the idea of _college town_ filled him with life he’d been lacking lately. He arrived exhausted, ready to bag the monster, finish the job, and head down to check out the bar scene. The last thing he expected was running into a woman like this.

Dean had always scoffed at the movie romances - the ones where someone bumps into another person, papers go flying, and it’s love at first sight. He always thought it was bullshit, perfectly content with blowing through town after town, having a fling in one and picking up a number in the next so he could maybe call the next time he passed through. But here they were, just two weeks after they met, talking about how ridiculously attractive their non-existent future babies would be.

“You can’t leave. You should stay here,” she said, so confident they could make it work despite their endless arguing, the mark of young love. “You can be like Dick Tracy and solve crimes or whatever it is you do, and I’ll write up the stories. We’d be a sensational team." She moved against him as she spoke. "You, in a three piece suit, me, bringing you lunch at work to barter for a scoop….” She trailed off, her tease faded to concern.

Dean wrapped his arms around her and melted into her chest, burying his face where he wished he could stay forever. She was absolutely intoxicating. Just being with her made him feel alive, like he mattered.

“Dean.”

He knew the rules. They did the job, they don’t talk about it. He also knew that was never going to work into a real relationship.

“Dean, baby, what’s wrong?”

She’d seen right through his bravado, called him out on it before buying him a beer. It was a story they could tell their kids - their fearless mother and soft-hearted dad. How they fought every day but couldn’t wait another hour to see each other again. How she'd cleaned him up when he came to her door banged up from a job and ran her fingers through his hair until he fell asleep. 

He could just _not_ go, he could stay here and try to build something, bury the old him and never look back. He could tell his dad to fuck off and let him have a chance at making his own life like Sam had. But he’d have to lie to her. He couldn’t do that.

“Listen, Cassie,” he started. He told her about all the weird things he’d seen and had to do, what he did with his dad for work, how he didn’t know what else was out there. She listened with wide eyes that slowly grew angry the further he got into explaining everything. “I know it sounds nuts, and I know it’s a lot to take in, but that’s the truth. That’s why my dad’s been calling. He needs my help on a case.”

She stared at him for a minute that felt like an hour. Dean wasn't sure if she was going to cry, hit him, try to take him to the hospital, or pretend he'd never said a word. He shouldn't have said anything. He should have just disappeared.

Cassie spat her words out in a fury. “If you want to just break it off, you can just say so, Dean. I’m not some dumb girl who can’t take a hint. If we’re done just _say_ we’re done and get out!” She wrenched her shirt out from behind his back, somehow having gotten lodged behind his pillow.

“Cassie, I’m telling the truth!” Dean said, his heart sinking into his gut. He felt sick. _She didn’t believe him_.

For the first time he cared enough about someone to tell them the truth about his life, and she didn’t believe a word he was saying. Anyone else not believing him he could understand. In his head, the same words reverberated over and over again. _Not her_.

She kept yelling, but he couldn’t hear anything she was saying. Something inside of him had broken and he felt like he was underwater. There was nothing he could say to stop her. Saying out loud how much he loved her wouldn’t matter, how big a deal it was for him to have told her these things. The facts of his life sounded so outlandish in any context that there was really no other way for her to believe him unless she had seen something herself. When the yelling stopped and she stood in front of him with pleading eyes, he said nothing. There was nothing to say. She was already gone when he registered that she had said she never wanted to see him again, and wanted him gone in an hour.

He poured himself into a motel room at two in the morning after drowning all his feelings for Cassie with whiskey, underestimating the amount of liquor it would take to flush the beautiful scent of her out of his skin. Whenever he woke up after taking a couple hours to sleep it off, he’d be a fresh slate for whoever wanted to step up to the plate to try their chance at this broken man. 


End file.
